Remember time when Dolphins spoiled us?

ETHAN J. SKOLNICK COMMENTARY

Hear the radio callers, voices weary after a late, lousy viewing night:

"They should have killed that sorry team."

Heed the cab driver in the black and gold jersey:

"They just don't look that good right now."

Read a city columnist:

"There have to be grave doubts."

Does that all sound familiar?

That's how the Steel City sounded on the clear Tuesday morning after the Pittsburgh Steelers' unsightly 3-0 victory against the winless Dolphins, a victory raising their division-leading record to 8-3. That's how cities with winning teams sound, when their teams don't win quite as aesthetically or dominantly as expected or preferred. That's how just about every NFL city has sounded on some morning this season, likely even some of the cities in the New England region after the undefeated Patriots struggled to beat the Eagles on Sunday night.

Fussy. Finicky. Whining. Worrying.

That's how South Florida used to sound. That's how you, the fan, used to sound. That's how we, the media, used to sound.

How sweet would those sounds seem now?

The only thing sweeter, of course, would be if we didn't hear them when the Dolphins start winning again. If we wouldn't again become what many former Dolphins believed we were.

"Spoiled," Oronde Gadsden said, laughing.

And we were, weren't we?

In 1990, the Dolphins won 12 games. Then eight. Then 11. Then they gave South Florida more 9s and 10s than a Hawaiian Tropic pageant. From 1992 through 2003, they averaged 9.7 victories. Yet we snickered at the notion that such seasons satisfied. We harped on failures, picked at flaws. No AFC championship appearances after January 1993. 62-7. December swoons. Late defensive collapses. Jay Fiedler's limitations. Low scores. Close margins.

"We became boring to the fans, but we would still hold on and win some of those games," said James McKnight, a Dolphins receiver from 2001 through 2003.

"We'd win, and it'd be, 'Jay didn't do a good job,' " said Gadsden, a Dolphin receiver from 1998 through 2003.

"Fiedler almost matched Danny [Marino] in terms of win totals," McKnight said. "The only thing that was different was Danny's numbers."

Those numbers gave the Dolphins championship hope, hope never realized. As Marino declined, then departed, hope gave way to fear.

Fear that the Dolphins weren't winning the right, flashy way.

Fear that they wouldn't advance once in the playoffs. Gadsden recalls near-blackouts for home playoff games in 89-degree weather, as well as the explanatory sentiment: The Dolphins will probably win, then lose in the next round anyway.

Fear that the front office wasn't doing the right things to reach the top.

Nothing in sports is more enjoyable than the unexpected story. That's why the 1995-96 Panthers run proved more thrilling to many than any of South Florida's titles since, even to those not knowing a red line from a red zone or Red Auerbach. That's why many found the 2003 Marlins championship with homegrown talent more redeeming than the 1997 title with hired mercenaries. That's why many look back more fondly at the fresh 2003-04 Heat that rallied to the second round, than at the 2005-06 squad that swigged and sprayed champagne.

Now the Dolphins, with 14 straight losses, have crashed through the cellar. Now, for the first time since the '60s, they can be an unexpected story, some season soon.

So will we still whine, or toast any twitch of life? Will we find greater appreciation in any victory, against any opponent, in any fashion, whether running foes off the field for settling for three field goals? Will we find joy, rather than fault?

McKnight believes the fans will learn to appreciate the wins, whenever they start coming.

Gadsden cited the team's history, its legacy as the only undefeated team - well, at least, for now.